Hell Hath
by Liger-Jam
Summary: G1 Someone from the twins' past has come back bent on revenge.
1. Stolen

"Oh, my processor..." Sideswipe moaned, onlining his optics. He tried to move, but found that his hands were bound behind his back.

"What the...?"

The front liner examined his surroundings. He was in the back of a cave, positioned so that he could just barely see light flooding in from the mouth. The rock was of the same type as Mount St. Hilary, so he probably wasn't even too far away from the Ark. But just how did he get here? He remembered landing safely after getting tossed off Thundercracker's wings in a twist, and he was just about to look for his brother when...darkness. It was all blank after that.

* * *

An incoming signal put a pause on his confusion. From the mouth of the cave entered a slender figure. They were mostly black in color, and wore a mask over their faceplate to conceal their identity.

"Who are you?" Sideswipe asked.

"You know who I am." they replied.

"I do?"

His capture was using a vocal scrambler to mask their identity even further. It hit Sideswipe that this could be anyone, even someone from his own team.

"Picture it: Cybertron. Before the purges, before the war. A little bar called Maccadam's. I was minding my own business with a friend when you and your twin propositioned us for a deal you knew we couldn't refuse. Those were your exact words, were they not, Sideswipe? That which we couldn't refuse?"

"Ehh..." he grinned sheepishly. "It rings a bell."

"Maybe this will ring some more!" His captor tore off their mask. Sideswipe's mouth dropped.

"You're a femme?!"

"Ha ha ha, are the bells ringing, Sideswipe?" she sneered. "Yes, I'm a femme. But I bet you can't remember my name. Can you? Think about it for an astrosecond."

Sideswipe shook his head. "I got nothin'."

"I knew it." she scoffed. "I wasn't even worth a space in your memory chips."

"Nah! I'm sure you're in here somewhere..." he objected. She shook her head and stepped closer to him.

"So the humans have a little saying," she started, looking at her hands. "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned."

"What...what are you going to do to me?"

She turned her head towards him, wearing a sinister grin that made his energon run cold.

"Oh, you'll see." she replied. "First, I have to run a little errand; and to make sure you'll actually stay this time..."

She whipped out a gun, and before Sideswipe could react, she fired at his right knee.

* * *

Sunstreaker wasn't worried; no, his brother's strange disappearance after the battle was more of an inconvenience than anything. Prowl had, in his logical wisdom, decided that being his twin meant that Sunstreaker had to cover his brother's shifts until he was found by Hound's team. He thought about that part more than he actually thought about Sideswipe's safety. Did that make him a bad brother? No, it made him a normal one.

But what wasn't normal was that strange shadow behind a tree...

* * *

To Sideswipe, his captor looked weaker than a floppy disk. But that must've been another one of her deceptions, because when she returned to the cave, she was dragging a half unconscious Sunstreaker behind her with ease.

"Sunny!" Sideswipe exclaimed.

"That's a cute nickname." the femme laughed, tossing Sunstreaker near Sideswipe. The yellow twin was already cuffed.

"Fraggin' glitch..." Sunstreaker moaned, regaining consciousness and sitting up. "Who the slag are you?"

"What, do corrupted memory chips run in your family or somethin'?"

"You didn't answer my question, femme!"

"Shut up!" she ordered, kicking Sideswipe in his busted knee. He cried out in agony. "I'm the one in charge here!"

"Hey, leave my brother out of this!"

"He's more responsible than you are, Sunny."

"And when will you tell us what the frag we're responsible for?"

"Does the designation Target ring a bell?"

"...No." the brothers shook their head.

"Is that you?" Sideswipe asked.

"No, that's not me!" she snapped. "Target was my sister. Until you two came along, that is."

Suddenly, it all clicked.

"No way!" Sideswipe exclaimed, and flinched from the pain in his knee. "I remember now. Bro, she's one of the twins we met at Maccadam's the night before that prank with the turbo foxes."

"So...you're Copy?" Sunstreaker asked.

She smiled. "You remember now. That's good."

"Right right. Target and Copy. Cool, we remember you now, so can we go?" Sideswipe said.

Copy's smile turned into a frown. "No! I said that she was my sister. When you two just left, it broke her spark. She kept babbling something about destiny and fate; I've forgotten what her main argument was about. Then one cycle she was too preoccupied in her thoughts to notice the Decepticon seekers with null rays pointed at her processor!"

"So why aren't you over at the Decepticon base?" Sunstreaker interrupted.

"Oh, don't worry, they're next. You two are only first because you're the ones that started Target's downward spiral."

"So what are you gonna do? Kill us? Hah! I'd like to see you try." Sunstreaker scoffed.

"I'm not killing both of you." she grinned. "Only one."

Copy turned to Sideswipe. He froze in her gaze.

"And guess who the lucky bot is?"

* * *

Sideswipe futilely tried to scoot away from her, but the pain in his knee was protesting too much.

"Psycho glitch, stay away from him!" Sunstreaker ordered, trying to break free from his cuffs.

Copy ignored his demands. She pulled a small, by transformer standards, knife out of her subspace and held it over Sideswipe's chest plating.

"You'll understand where I'm coming from once your twin is offline, Sunstreaker!"

"Not yet, he won't!" a voice from the mouth of the cave exclaimed. Copy snapped her head around towards the voice, and growled.

"Step away from the Autobot." Hound ordered, his gun drawn and pointed at her. She smiled.

"This is a misunderstanding, dear mech." she purred. "I'm only balancing the scale!"

In the blink of an eye, Copy swapped her knife for her gun and fired at Hound. The tracker dove out of the way and fired his own shots.

Copy was hit in the shoulder. "You can't take this away from me!" she cried, firing more rounds. Hound returned fire, and Copy ceased to cry.

* * *

Hound finished decuffing Sideswipe and moved on to Sunstreaker.

"How'd you find us?" Sideswipe asked.

"The Sunstreaker outlined drag marks were a dead giveaway." Hound replied as he took the cuffs off of said yellow twin. He looked down at the lifeless femme. "So who's she?"

Sunstreaker looked to his brother, who frowned.

"A woman scorned."


	2. Scorned

**'Cybertron. Before the purges, before the war. A little bar called Maccadam's...'**

**

* * *

  
**

"I think you've had enough, Target."

"I've had more than this before!"

"Yes, and how exactly did that end?"

"...In a gutter..."

"Correct. Now hand me that cube."

The two black and white femmes, twins, in fact, were seated at a booth in a corner of the bar. It was their usual hang out spot after work. They were dispatchers at the local police station.

"Aww." Target, the 'younger' of the two, whined as she handed over the cube of energon to her twin.

"It's for your own good." Copy, the 'older' stated, pushing the cube out of her sister's reach.

"If you say so."

Two shadows cast over the booth.

"Hello, ladies."

"We've got somethin' to say."

Copy and Target looked up. Two mechs, one yellow and one red, were standing next to their booth, smiling.

"Who're you two?" Copy asked suspiciously.

"I'm Sideswipe." the red one answered. "And this is my twin, Sunstreaker."

"Mind if we sit with you?" Sunstreaker asked.

"Hey, sure!" Target grinned. "We're twins too!"

They sat down across from the sisters. Copy already didn't like them.

"So what do you want?" she asked, crossing her arms.

"We have a deal for you, that which you can't refuse." Sideswipe said.

"Oh really? And what would that be?"

"I think you know what, sweetspark." Sunstreaker winked. Copy wanted to purge, while her sister giggled.

"What do you think, _sweetspark_?" Target grinned at Copy.

"Excuse us for an astrosecond." Copy said, and pulled her sister out of the booth.

"Of course."

* * *

Copy pulled her sister to the other end of the bar, out of earshot of the propositioning mechs.

"Have you lost your processor?!" Copy scolded.

"But Cop, they're cute!" Target protested.

"You're as drunk as a war vet; you probably think old Maccadam himself is cute!"

"Well, at this angle-" Target started, looking over at said barkeep.

"Target!" Copy hissed. Her sister giggled.

"Here, I'll make you a deal. You can have the red one, and I'll take the yellow one."

"That's not very appealing."

"Copy! For once, live a little! You don't drink, you don't dance, now you're gonna tell me you don't frag?"

"Of course I do, please forgive me for not acting like a wild turbo fox."

Her sister went into another fit of giggles.

"Come on, let's tell them we accept." Target said, pulling her sister back to the booth by her wrist.

"What?! I didn't-!"

* * *

"So ladies, what do you say?" Sideswipe smirked.

"How could we say no to such _fine_ mechs as yourselves?" Target replied.

_"Like this: No."_ Copy thought, but decided to keep her opinions to herself. Maybe Target was right? What harm could it do?

* * *

Copy onlined to the sound of her sister's furious pacing.

"Where'd they go? They were just here!"

"What're you looking for?" Copy groaned, sitting up in her berth. She saw her sister pacing around the room fanatically.

"The mechs!" Target answered, turning to her sister.

"You didn't actually think they would stay, did you?"

"Why not? We hit it off so well...!"

Copy laughed. "Are you still overcharged? They're _players_, Target. That's what they do."

"No. They were _different_." she insisted. "I have to go find them!"

"We have to get to work, sis." Copy said, standing up. She lazily picked up pieces of her armor next to the berth and snapped them back on.

"Tell Boss I've got a virus or something." Target called, making a dash for the door. "I'll comm you once I've found them!"

"Target!" Copy shouted. "They're probably in Altihex by now!"

The slam of the door was her only reply. Copy grumbled to herself as she finished putting her armor back on.

"She better not crash."

* * *

"Unit 37, you are requested to report back to headquarters." Copy spoke into her dispatch feed.

_"That depends. Am I being requested by you?"_ the officer, designation Mialto, asked.

"You wish." Copy chuckled.

_"A bot can dream, can't he?"_

"Just as long as those dreams involve me being fully armored."

_"We don't have to take our armor off to have a good time."_

Copy blushed a little. "Just get back here, you goof."

As she closed the feed, Copy glanced at her twin. Target looked like she hadn't gotten recharge in a long time. Her stance was slouched and she spoke drearily.

"Hey." Copy said, catching her sister's attention.

"What?" Target answered, turning back to her monitors.

"What's wrong?"

"Huh?"

"You're unhappy. I can feel it."

"Oh...well...this new program is a little frustrating, that's all."

"Don't lie to me."

Target turned to her sister. Copy was frowning and staring right into her optics.

Unnerved, Target turned away. "It's nothing."

"You don't still have those ludicrous twins on the processor, do you?"

Target fidgeted. "No!"

"Oh, _Target_." Copy groaned. "You have to forget about them! We meant nothing to them, and so they mean nothing to us."

"Don't say that!" Target suddenly exclaimed, standing up. "I don't know why, but something keeps telling me that I _have_ to be with them! It's...it's fate! This isn't because of some crush, Copy. At first it was...but now I'm certain it's something bigger."

"Listen to yourself! You're not making any sense!"

"No, _**you're**_ not making any sense!"

Copy crossed her arms. The two stared at each other for a moment before Target stomped off towards the door.

"Target, don't be like this!" Copy called. Target ignored her as she left. "Stubborn femme."

* * *

_"Prowl to Copy."_

Copy's optics jolted online.

"Prowl? Sir, I'm sorry, I was recharging. What's wrong?" Copy asked, sitting up.

_"It's Target...you better get over here."_

"What's up?"

_"...Just come."_

_

* * *

  
_

Copy followed the coordinates Prowl sent to her, and wound up in the downtown part of Iacon, near Maccadam's. Prowl was standing next to an apartment complex near the street. Copy transformed and saluted.

"What's the issue?"

"I heard you two got into a little argument at dispatch last cycle." Prowl said.

"Uh-huh, but we reconciled that night."

"Good, good..."

"So where's Target?"

"It's good that you two get along so well..."

Copy began to feel strange."Prowl, where's my sister?"

"Copy, I think you should-"

"_Where is she_?"

"Over here."

Prowl gestured towards the ally way. She peered around the corner.

Copy gasped in horror. "No! No, Target!"

The femme was laying on her back on the ground. The left side of her head was damaged, exposing a plethora of wires and circuitry.

Copy rushed to her sister's side. She held Target close to her chest. It was then she realized it: she couldn't feel Target there anymore.

"Who did this?!" Copy demanded, looking up at Prowl.

"The witness said three seekers confronted her, then one shot her in the processor." Prowl replied.

"Target..." Copy sobbed, holding her twin tighter. "I swear to Primus, I won't _ever_ forget this. I'll get them back. _All_ of them!"

"Copy," Prowl warned. "Don't go vigilante on me."

She shook her head, and picked her sister up. Standing up, she turned to Prowl.

"I'm not. I'm no law breaker. I'll find a way to get them with justice."

Prowl nodded approvingly. "Let's get Target to the morgue."


	3. Subreption

"Slaggit." Copy cursed, slamming her apartment door behind her. She headed for her room, but stopped when she reached her sister's. In some twisted thought, Copy wondered if her sister was just playing a trick on her. She imagined, as she opened the door, Target jumping out in front of her.

_"Surprise! I didn't really believe in all that twin fate mumbo jumbo. I just wanted to get back at you for that super glue prank!"_

But no cheery twin greeted Copy. Instead, she was reunited with the cold reminder that the only bot she ever both loved and trusted was gone forever.

Optics filling with fluid, Copy ran out of the doorway and dashed into her own room, slamming the door once again in anger and sorrow.

* * *

"So what are you gonna do, Copy? Kill 'em?"

Copy and Mialto, whom was still sporting his police-identifying armor, were speaking alone in his office. She had just finished explaining why she had been depressed and irritable more and more lately.

"Maybe I will."

"You don't have the spark for it." he scoffed. "Why don't you let officer mechs like me, who are actually trained in the art of offlining, handle your little skirmish?"

"It doesn't take a rocket scientist to offline a bot!" she seethed, optics burning in fury. "And don't you _dare_ tell me what I do or do not have the spark for!"

"Hey hey, calm down there, sweetspark!" Mialto said, holding out his hands in defense.

Copy froze. Slowly, she stood up.

"I'm enlisting in the police academy." she murmured.

"You're _**what**_?!"

"Are your audios glitched?" she growled. "I _said_ I'm enlisting in the academy! I'm going to become an officer. I'm tired of this node-numbing dispatch work."

Mialto was speechless. His job was full of surprises, but this one blew the others clear out of the water.

"Femmes can't join the academy!"

"Says who? I've already checked every single rule book ever created. I didn't see a single law that said a femme couldn't join."

"Yeah, but it also says 'those of a weaker model are not advised to join'."

Copy grabbed one of Mialto's data pad reports. She ripped it in half and threw it to the ground, shattering it instantly.

"Does that look **weak** to you?!"

"...No, no, that's not weak at all."

"Good. See you in four stellar cycles."

Copy left his office without so much as a glance back.

"Primus," he smiled. "What a femme!"

* * *

The Hall of Heroes was packed wall to wall with graduating class and their friends. A small stage was set up, where Prowl and a decorated general stood with the graduates' new badges.

Copy stood in the front row, between another graduate and Mialto, waiting for Prowl to finish his speech.

"Excited?" Mialto asked.

"Not in the slightest." she replied.

"What's your malfunction, Copy? This should be the best cycle of your life!"

"The best cycle of my life will be when I dance on your grave."

The graduate next to Copy looked at her with both a confused and horrified expression. Copy ignored him.

"Better not say somethin' like that to the general up there." Mialto warned.

"I'm not stupid." Copy snapped. "Why'd you even come to this thing?"

"Miss my favorite dispatcher's graduation? Not for all the high grade and dancer femmes on Cybertron!"

"Of course." she sighed.

"We will now begin awarding badges," Prowl concluded. "Autobot AirFire."

* * *

When Copy's name was called, Mialto grinned and slapped her on the back.

"That's you! Go get 'em!"

She shot him a silent glare as she stepped out of line and made her way to the stage. She wiped the expression off her face once she reached the steps, replacing it with a smiling one.

"One of the best in your class." the general smiled, shaking her hand. "It is an honor to have you on the team."

"Thank you, Sir." she replied. As soon as the media bot was finished taking pictures, she walked a couple paces towards Prowl and bowed her head to him.

"I hope you're doing this for the right reasons." Prowl said in a hushed voice.

"I am doing this so that I may bring justice to those who act as if they are above the law, Sir." she whispered back, lifting her head.

Prowl nodded, and adhered the badge to her shoulder. Claps followed Copy off the stage. She made sure Mialto and Prowl didn't notice her sneak out as the next graduate stepped up.

* * *

**Note: Sorry for the lateness. I've had a little trouble writing lately. **

**One more chapter left. :D**


	4. Surreption

The break room of the police station was quiet enough to finish reports in, but still loud enough to carry on a conversation without being self conscious of one's voice.

"Did you hear about Officer Mialto?"

Copy stopped tapping her finger on the side of her datapad and listened closer to the conversation between two rookies behind her.

"No. What about him?"

"I heard he got Officer Copy carrying."

Copy snapped her pen in half.

"No way! Who'd you hear that from?"

The femme silently slipped out of her chair and confronted the rookies.

"_Yes_. Do tell." she said, glowering down at the mech that spoke the lie.

"O-Officer!" he stammered.

"Here's a tip." Copy said, slamming her fist on the table. Her voice grew in volume as she spoke. "When you're going to tell a rumor about somebot, make sure they're _not in the same fragging room_!"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please don't offline me!" he trembled.

Copy scoffed and stepped back. "You call yourself an officer? Youngling."

She scooped up her reports and left before he collected his thoughts enough to reply.

* * *

The datastream was a personal flow of information, fed from the main computers of the station. Only the higher ranked officers were given the authorization to use it. Seated at her desk in her office, Copy booted up the datastream and entered her login ID.

**'Restricted**'

"...What?"

She repeated the login sequence, and the same message appeared.

"Those glitches...no! They did _not_ stop my datastream!" Copy struck the monitor. "I was so close!!"

She was about to look for something to smash when someone knocked on her door.

"What?!" Copy snarled, standing up. The door opened, and in stepped Mialto.

"Nice to see you too, Copy." he said as the door closed.

"I'm not in the mood."

"I see...so I guess you discovered the lock on your datastream." Mialto observed, stepping closer to her desk.

"I'm being decommissioned, aren't I? That's why you're here?" she asked. Mialto reluctantly nodded.

"Prowl feels that you're too emotionally motivated in your work to efficiently-"

"Spare me his reasoning, I don't care." she interrupted.

Mialto's shoulders slumped. "I'm sorry. I tried to reason with him, but he didn't take the bait. He _did_ say you could go back to dispatch, though."

"I'd rather be eaten alive by scraplets."

Mialto raised an optic ridge.

"Bye, Mialto." she continued, walking past him and towards the door. "Have fun offlining things. I know _I_ will."

Before Mialto could register what she said, she was gone.

* * *

**Cybertron. Millions of years after the launch of the **_**Ark **_**and **_**Nemesis.**_** In the underground female Autobot base...**

**

* * *

  
**

"Has anyone seen Copy?" Chromia asked her red teammate.

"Probably out somewhere being irritable." Firestar replied.

A door nearby opened. "For your information, _Firestar_, I was out topside fixing the stupid transmitter so that you and the others can speak with those megalomaniac mechs on Earth."

"Chose your words wisely, Autobot Copy." Chromia warned. "Someone might think you're guilty of treason."

"Oh yeah? What are you gonna do, arrest me? Put me in the brig? Try it. I'll flip you onto your cranium _so_ fast, you won't even-"

"Autobots!" Elita One interrupted. The arguing femmes quickly fell into line. "What's the malfunction?"

"This _officer bot_ threatened us!" Firestar said.

"You're insulting me again? I should-!"

"Copy!" Elita barked. Copy grudgingly fell back into order. "The transmitter is still malfunctioning. Please try a different router."

"Yes ma'am." she grumbled, shooting Chromia and Firestar a scowl as she left. Elita sighed.

"That femme has some major demons in her system." Chromia said.

Firestar turned to the blue femme, arms crossed. "You're tellin' me!"

* * *

"Stupid machine!"

Copy furiously kicked at the transmitter's base. Once a sizable dent was created, she calmed down.

"Well, Copy," she muttered to herself, kneeling down next transmitter to continue working. "you could've avoided this entire job if you hadn't blurted out that you had experience with data streams. All those cycles of scouring the databanks...tracking those worthless piles of scrap metal...then they turned on me, those paranoid officers...but I guess they had good reason to be."

The transmitter began to beep and flash green lights.

"_Fi-na-__**lly**_!" she exhaled, standing up and putting her hands on her hips. After surveying her work, she headed back underground; making sure to take a shortcut.

* * *

Copy burst into the communications room.

"There! I fixed your stupid-!"

**"Blaster, calling Cybertron. Do you here me, Cybertron?"**

"Loud and clear, Blaster." Elita answered, oblivious to Copy's presence.

**"Nice to see ya, 'Lita! How're things back home?"**

Copy grimaced as she turned away from the screen. She loathed that red radio's voice. He was too..._happy_. Times were too lousy to be so happy. She remained in the communications room, but turned to the data pad case to try and focus on something other than that irritating tape deck.

Data pad titles varied from medical to scientific to fiction, but one that stuck out most to Copy was titled Strange Humans. It was a newer model of data pad, indicating that it must have been sent to their base by the Autobot scientist on Earth.

Copy opened up the first chapter, titled Language Oddities and Sayings.

**"Ah, get offa my frequency, Sideswipe!"**

_"Sideswipe?"_ Copy thought, snapping her attention back to the screen. She quickly put the data pad back and looked up at the monitor.

_"It's __him__!"_

**"I just wanted to pay my respects to the lovely ladies..."** Sideswipe grinned. Blaster pushed him away.

"Blaster, we will send you the energon shipment via the space bridge." Elita interjected. "Shockwave is currently on the other side of the planet. His security drones will be easy to bypass."

**"I hear that, baby! Thanks again, Blaster out!"**

Copy held back a conniving grin from forming on her faceplate. _"Via space bridge? No Shockwave? I must be dreaming!"_

Elita then turned to Copy, perhaps prooving that she was aware of the black femme's presence after all.

"Copy, would you mind escorting Moonracer to the space bridge?" she asked.

_"Eeee!"_

"I don't mind at all." Copy replied. "We'll leave immediately."

Copy began to turn towards the exit, but Elita stopped her.

"Copy, one moment."

"Yes?"

"I almost forgot to thank you for repairing the transmitter. Thank you."

"My pleasure. Oh, that reminds me, I better check it before I get Moonracer...just to be sure it didn't overheat again."

"Would you? That would be excellent."

"Of course." she smiled, and left the room.

_"Check on it. I'll check on it, alright..."_

_

* * *

  
_

"Excited, Copy? I'm always revved when we're on a mission!" Moonracer grinned as the two approached the tower on foot. Copy didn't reply. "...Well, you're an officer bot, so I guess this sort of thing doesn't excite you too much anymore, huh?"

"This sort of thing, no." she responded as the two entered the tower's command center. Copy and Moonracer split up, the latter going to the large computer near the space bridge.

"We're lucky. This tower has just enough energy for one more trip." Moonracer observed, and looked over her shoulder. Copy was trying to force open the energon storage room's door. Moonracer turned back to the monitor and pressed a button. The door opened so fast that Copy lost her footing and slipped, landing on her back.

Grumbling as Moonracer giggled, Copy transformed and drove into the room. Her vehicle mode sported a small bed, but big enough to fit energon cubes in.

"Ready?" Moonracer asked as Copy drove out of the room for the third time.

"Hang on, I've got one more load." Copy said, driving into the space bridge. Moonracer turned back to the controls.

"Ok!" Copy called. Moonracer pressed the initiation button, closing the door to the spacebridge.

The mint femme turned around with a smile. "Alright! This is so cool, eh Cop-?"

Moonracer scanned the room, but there was no sign of the femme.

"Copy?"

* * *

A grin immediately formed on Copy's face as the spacebridge started up. There was no going back now; and right about now, Elita was probably discovering the shredded bits of what was formerly a transmitter scattered about the base...

* * *

The space bridge sent Copy to a dry, sandy area of Earth. The sun's heat hit her frame like a wrecking ball.

"How do they stand this? Ugh..." she complained. Her grumblings were cut short, though, when her audios caught the sound of rumbling afterburners.

"That was fast." she muttered. Before she hid, she took a cube with her. "Not like they'll notice..."

She dashed behind a cluster of boulders just as a large jet landed near the space bridge.

"Quick, Ironhide." the jet said, opening his cargo door. A red mech hopped out. "Optimus needs us back ASAP. The Decepticons are attacking the dam, and he wants all of the front liners there immediately."

"Ah hear ya, Skyfire! Ah'll go as fast as ah can!"

"Too perfect." Copy purred with a simper, observing Autobot Ironhide load up the energon cubes.

* * *

**Note: Fin. You know the rest!**

**Bunny credit goes to flamingmarsh over on LJ.  
**

**If you like my stuff, keep an eye on me...I've got more stories in the works. ;D**


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